The Convenience of Broom Closets
by attackofthejello
Summary: Sir Cadogan stumbles upon a strange couple in the hallways of Hogwarts. PG-13 for language, very light innuendo. Short one-shot.


**A/N: I wrote this for a cookie challenge in one of my minor 'ships. It's a boring, unrevised, unbeta'd half-hour effort (rather, uneffort). I particularly like the random change in POV in the middle of the story. Ah well, enjoy it anyhow. I don't feel like fixing it.**

---@---

Many was the day the unfortunate Sir Cadogan would go on an evening stroll through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Perhaps he was growing tired of the endless string of indignities he suffered at the figurative hands of his shamefully obese horse and unwieldy sword. Or perhaps he was growing tired of his exile to the most obscure corridor of the most unvisited section of Hogwarts, where the number of paintings and real people whom he could annoy into fury could be kept to a bare minimum.

Whatever the case, Sir Cadogan often would abandon his horse and sword and would traverse the school in the evening, in the busiest part of the day— immediately after dinner was served in the Great Hall, but before the students' curfew. In his wanderings he came across many curious sights, many suspicious characters, and many extremely odd couples— but none so odd as the couple he encountered one cold winter's evening after the end of the Christmas holidays. 

Sir Cadogan was sauntering through a painting of the first Quidditch players on the legendary Queerditch Moor, when he heard a (presumably unintentionally audible) exclamation from down the hall: "Holy shit, your wand is long!" Curiosity piqued, and always up for a good adventure, he followed the echoes of the shout up a staircase to an empty passageway. Sir Cadogan's gaze fell upon a sight that they could not believe. He expended a considerable amount of time and effort removing the armour from his wrists and hands so that he could rub his eyes and make sure that the sight they met was not a trick of the light or of the leftover holiday mead he'd guzzled not an hour beforehand. Proper observation confirmed, he swaggered to the nearest portrait to the young pair, the better to chat with them.  And, if he was lucky, to stir up a duel. 

"Well!" he roared, "If it isn't the two most disagreeable young rascals I've ever had the misfortune to meet within these noble walls!"

"We're a bit busy," came a muffled voice from the tangled pair of bodies. Indeed, the sandy-haired young man seemed to be occupied by both his mouth and hands; but he had nothing on the girl who had taken a hold of his "wand". 

But the distinctive Irish accent was prevalent enough for Sir Cadogan to recognise its owner. "Seamus Finnigan!" he hollered. "The very same rogue who once called me 'barking mad', I do believe." 

Sir Cadogan chatted on and on about the days of old. He seemed very intent on interrupting the young couple. Finally, the girl stopped long enough to pull out her own wand, which was, obviously, a real wooden magic wand. "_Diffindo," she muttered, pointing her wand at the landscape from which Sir Cadogan was peering out at them. The picture split in half and fell off of the wall. _

Undaunted, Sir Cadogan clambered up into a new painting, a portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. "A challenge, Ms. Zabini? By a fair lady, no less!"

Seamus jumped to his feet. "Hey, that's _my fair lady you're talking to!" _

Blaise promptly got up and slapped Seamus across the face. "_Never call me that again! I thought you knew better," she snapped. "And as for __you—" she glared at Sir Cadogan— "can't we get a little privacy, or am I going to have to tear down every picture in this tower?"_

Sir Cadogan roared with laughter. "Don't be absurd! You would do no such thing!"

Blaise glowered; Seamus watched her apprehensively. He seemed intrigued. "Would you like to put a bet on that?" Blaise's voice was low and dangerous.

Sir Cadogan was adamant. "You know I'd find a way to return here, even if you did raze all these fine works of art. You ought to surrender straight away, for you are wasting your time!" 

Seamus groaned, "What's your problem? Why are you so obsessed with bothering us?"

Sir Cadogan responded cheerily, "Because, my not-so-good-man, I have nothing better to do. 'Tis a quest, no doubt, a mission that I shall not fail." 

"Barking mad," mumbled Seamus under his breath.

"C'mon," said Blaise, and she grabbed Seamus by the arm and led him down the tower steps ("Yellow-bellied scoundrels! Come back here and fight!" Sir Cadogan yelled from up in the tower behind them). "We'll find something else to do."

"There's _nothing else to do," Seamus muttered. "It's so boring here!" _

"We'll find something else to do if I say we will," said Blaise. "Besides, if we can entertain ourselves during Potions class, we can entertain ourselves now."

"Ah, well, seeing a pink-haired Snape _is entertaining," admitted Seamus. "That was a nice bit o' magic on your part." Blaise gave a smug grin. "But I hardly want to go hunt down Snape and pull pranks on him during free hours. We may as well just ask him for a few dozen detentions."_

 "That's true. But who says we have to pull pranks on Snape for fun?"

"We were just saying that there's _nothing else to do!" _

"What I mean, dimwit, is we can pull pranks on somebody else. Anybody else. Not from Slytherin, though, we don't want somebody who will curse us right back," Blaise declared.

"Not from Gryffindor," Seamus said. "I don't need to be in trouble with me friends."

"Fair enough," agreed Blaise. "How about… Ravenclaw?"

"Hufflepuff," Seamus suggested at the same time. 

Blaise frowned. "Ooh, I just _hate Ravenclaws, the goody-goody brainiac swots," she mused. "I'd __love to get them back for being so… so __swotty."_

"But they're too bright!" argued Seamus. "They'd catch on to us in a heartbeat! Hufflepuffs make far better victims."

"You underestimate my prowess at not getting caught," Blaise growled, seizing Seamus by his tie. "Don't forget— I. Never. Get. Caught."

Seamus gulped. "Em, of course you don't…"

"Ravenclaws deserve what's coming to them," Blaise went on, picking at her highly polished nails as she spoke. "Just because they're clever doesn't mean they're _streetsmart. That's what Gryffindors and Slytherins are. Ravenclaws are so damn naïve, they'll think we're skulking around near their common room hoping to get help on our Charms homework."_

Seamus decided to stand his ground. "It'd be like hexing a Slytherin. They're _sure to find out who did it, and find some brainy intelligent way to get back at us. It's far better to track down a Hufflepuff. Even if they knew who did it, they wouldn't do anything about it. Firstly, they're too stupid, and secondly, they wouldn't have the guts to get back at us."_

"Ravenclaws are so bloody stuck up in their own bloody little world—"

"Hufflepuffs have no damn backbone—"

Soon their quarrel ballooned into a full-fledged fight. Seamus had grabbed a fistful of her long dark-brown hair, and Blaise had dug her nails into Seamus' upper arm. 

"Ravenclaw!"

"Hufflepuff!"

 "_Ravenclaw!"_

"_Hufflepuff!"_

"_RAVENCLAW!"_

"_HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"_RAVEN-BLOODY-CLAW!" With this final shout Blaise dragged her sharp-nailed hands down Seamus' arm. _

"You bitch!" Seamus yelled. "Me arm's bleeding now!"

"You deserved it," said Blaise, giving him the death stare. 

A few minutes went by in which they simply glared at each other. Finally, Seamus, clutching his arm, sighed and said, "Look, I've got a better idea."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" asked Blaise angrily.

Seamus hesitated, letting the tension build. "Well?" said Blaise impatiently.

                He stopped glowering and put on a roguish expression. "Let's snog," he said abruptly.

                The scowl disappeared from Blaise's face, and she grinned back. "You're on. Where can we go where that stupid knight won't follow us? He's mad as a hatter, that one."

                Seamus looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well," he said mischievously, "there are no paintings in broom closets."


End file.
